


Criminal Record: Classified

by dazzlemewithgold



Category: Detroit: Become Human (Video Game)
Genre: Additional Warnings In Author's Note, Alternate Universe, Detroit, Deviant Connor (Detroit: Become Human), Elijah Kamski & Gavin Reed are Siblings, Gavin Reed Needs a Hug, Hurt Gavin Reed
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-06
Updated: 2019-04-06
Packaged: 2020-01-05 22:13:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,404
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18375119
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dazzlemewithgold/pseuds/dazzlemewithgold
Summary: What if Gavin Reed received Connor as a partner instead?A short.





	Criminal Record: Classified

**Author's Note:**

> Additional warnings: suicide mention, cigarette mention, abuse mention.  
> Stay safe.

03:12:27 AM

The amount of cigarette smoke surprised him. He wasn’t one to be alarmed easily, yet the chilling atmosphere which lingered the air intrigued him. Seeing the cigarette slowly burn between his slim fingers, he observed his reflection within the precinct’s grimy glass doors. Hues of bright neon street lights flickered from behind him. Reds and blues overlapped each other, blending into a smooth amalgamation of various shades of purple. Soaring into the night, the rays met the 3 AM fog of Detroit’s autumn. They guided their way through the fog’s particles and dispersed the now bleeding tinge. As the reflection bounced off of the one-sided glass, it fell upon his tired face, later seeping into the crooks of his nose scar. It gave his surroundings an odd, artificial look. He wasn’t fond of artificial. Sighing deeply, Gavin took another long drag of his cigarette.

It was a great trivialization to state that Gavin disliked androids, for he despised them with a burning passion. He’d always been questioned about his hatred towards the _creatures_. Instead of giving the desired answer, Gavin would come up with various combinations of the English dictionary’s _foulest_ , paired with an intricate gesture, to get rid of the nosiness.

However, his daydream was cut short, for a sharp sound of nearby glass breaking echoed through the lonely streets. The drunks were at their prime state this hour. 3 AM and they stop caring about the law. Their beer and vodka bottles were bear and out in the open for anyone to see, or in this case: break. But who was Gavin trying to persuade? He was careless towards the drunks’ oblivion of the law. Just _how_ he accomplished to keep his job was a mystery - even for the detective himself to solve.

As he began to leave, he’d noticed the contrast of the bright orange tip of his cigarette had begun to subside. Dropping it to the ground, the now short cigarette was crushed by Gavin’s sole. And as he walked into yet another cloud of fog, he cracked open the cigarette pack; took another one out and lit it. The cigarette smoke slowly, yet surely, bonded with the mist. With the bright neon lights escaping his field of vision, he realized, that the only thing harder than separating these two clouds by hand, would be to fix the lonely detective.

 

05:59:34 AM

Many pools of rainwater adorned the street as he precisely avoided stepping into them. With each step he took, Connor was filled with determination. He was close to accomplishing his task, which, in this case, was finding Detective Gavin Reed. A sweet _bing_ signalized his arrival at the coordinates he was given to find the man. Looking into the distance, Connor noticed a lonely silhouette slumping against the rough walls of an apartment complex. A cloud of smoke gloomed around the man. He brought what seemed to be a cigarette to his lips, later disposing of it as he exhaled, and began to fiddle with his lighter. With each second that passed, the man accomplished to properly flick the lighter on and then off, illuminating his visage for a fraction of a second. He looked tired, Connor noticed.

Connor was now close enough to properly analyze the man’s facial features, even through the morning darkness. However, it took him a few seconds to appropriately focus on them. As his optical unit glanced over each and every curve and regarded any scars or birthmarks, a small frame of information appeared within Connor’s field of vision.

 

_DET. REED, GAVIN_

_Born: 07/10/2002 // Detective_

_Criminal Record: Classified_

 

 _Bingo_.

Connor stopped in front of the man, making him look up with an anticipatory stare. “Good evening, Detective Reed. My name is Connor, I’m the android sent by Cyberlife.” he spoke in a monotone, calm, and put together voice. A hint of disgust crawled upon Gavin’s face.

“And?” he scoffed, taking out yet another smoke. With it dangling from his lips, Gavin reached for his lighter. “Get out of here, would-ya? Fucking androids.”

“I must insist, detective. I was sent to assist the Detroit police department and its growing cases involving android deviancies.” Connor fixated.

“Then what are you doing here? Go to the precinct, asshole.” He paused, hesitantly trying to flick his lighter under the anticipating cigarette as he waited for the android to respond. He looked up, “come on, get a move on,” he finally said, annoyed.

“I am sorry to announce that I have been in contact with the precinct already, detective. They sent me here to find you, I was assigned to you specifically.”

Gavin’s face went blank, and what was disgust had now transformed itself into a sore, shocked stare instead. It lingered through each and every crook and cranny of his face; it crawled deep into his wrinkles and soaked into every last bit of his facial scars. Suddenly, the puppy-eyed detective took in the color of scorching fire. He ripped the unlit cigarette from his lips, and his grip on the dart was so strong, Connor expected it to break any time now. Completely ignoring the waiting android, Gavin let out a string of curse words, some of which had a combination _so_ _unique_ , Connor had to make sure to take note of them. For future reference, of course. “They couldn’t have given you to Anderson, could they?”

“Lieutenant Anderson showed great amounts of protest towards working with an android. Captain Fowler decided it would be a better idea to assign me to a more,” Connor paused, looking for the right word to use, “ _stable_ officer.”

“Well, tell him that I’m against working with a plastic fucking cop, too.”

“My apologies, but your superior officer has told me not to allow any negotiation. I can contact him for you if you’d like-.”

“Don’t,” Gavin stated, surrender occupying his facial structure. He sighed. “Just don’t.”

The two men stood there quietly, a thick and uncomfortable silence surrounded Gavin as he choked out the following words, “so, what now, tin can?”

 

07:01:58 AM

The Stratford Tower grew taller and taller the closer the vehicle they occupied got to it. However, even from a great distance, the images projected upon the large glass surface were visible miles away. At the time, a news report describing the incident played upon the huge screen. Connor, who already received all of the information needed for this investigation from Cyberlife, stayed put. Instead, he watched his surroundings, occasionally turning his head and blinking, all of which was done effortlessly and gracefully.

Sitting in the passenger’s seat, he noticed Gavin’s gaze fell upon the display as he sat behind the steering wheel. His eyes would fall upon the news report and then back to the road every now and then. However, it was when a specific person appeared on the screen that the detective’s eyes darkened.

“Are you okay, Detective?” Connor questioned, noticing a slight irregularity in Gavin’s heart rate.

“I’m fine, dipshit,” he answered hostilely whilst pulling up. “We’re here now, go do your job.”

 

05: 33:08 PM

 With his feet resting on the wood, Gavin sat on the back of a bench as he looked out at the glistening water. The night began to grow cold, and all that adored his shivering body was an old, brown leather jacket Gavin held close to heart. Connor slowly approached him once he made sure the car door was properly locked. As the gravel crunched under his feet, he saw Gavin struggling to find his lighter. With the cigarette between his lips, Gavin let out a few muffled curse words.

“Looking for this?” Connor asked, holding up the purple lighter Gavin had left in the car.

“Thanks,” Gavin answered, and for the first time, it felt sincere. Connor reached out with the lighter, perfectly flicking it under the dart, and watched as the fire caught onto the thin paper of the tube. Gavin breathed in the intoxicating smoke before grabbing it with his index and pointer finger.

“You did a good job today, Detective,” Connor spoke, handing him the purple lighter.

“You’re programmed to say that, asshole,” Gavin said as he took the item from Connor, placing it into his pocket.

“I must ask, Detective, why do you hate working with me so much?” he questioned, his face going soft in the slightest. Gavin’s face, however, went the exact opposite way and frowned.

“That’s none of your business.”

“I know you aren’t one to open up, Gavin, but our work would be much more efficient if we were to-”

“I said, it’s none of your _fucking_ business,” He took a long drag. “It’s always like this with you plastic dipshits. You’re all such know-it-all’s, aren’t you?”

“I didn’t mean tha-”, Connor tried.

“No, shut the fuck up for a second. Do you know how it feels? How it feels to not know everything once in a while?” He laughs, his pain was hidden between the vibrations his vocal cords created. A realization came to his mind. “I’m arguing with metal, I’m going crazy aren’t I?”

“Detective, I’m detecting high levels of stress and sleep deprivation. I suggest you calm down.”

“Oh,” he raised his eyebrows. “You’re suggesting that  _I_  calm down, are you? You sound _just_ _like_ _him_.”

“Like who, Gavin?” His LED blinked yellow for a split of a second.

Gavin paused for a moment, letting his cigarette slowly die down as he thought. His face went pale and alleviated, right before it went back to pure rage, “Why do you need to know everything, huh? Wanna know all about my past? Wanna find out about my father? How my mother would do nothing when he did what he did to me, but God _forbid_ someone landed a finger on my little _sunshine_ brother? How I got stuck with these scars because of him?” Tears welled up at the edge of his eyelid as he pointed towards the, now faint, continuous scar that ran across his nose to parts of his cheeks. “Every single day I have to work with some _thing_ that endlessly reminds me of that, something that I hoped to forget a long fucking time ago. Yet, here we are, aren’t we?”

Connor attempted to interfere, yet whenever he did, Gavin would cut him off.

“I’m done,” Gavin said, finally, as he threw his used-up cigarette to the ground. “This is worthless, get out of my sight.”

“Sir, I do not recommend walking home in your conditions. I suggest a visit to the hospital. Let me escort you,” the android spoke, taking in a deep breath as his LED turned to yellow, “please.”

All he got in return, though, was a single gesture from the detective as he slowly disappeared in the misty evening of Detroit.

 

04:18:59 AM

The air was thick and tar-like as Connor stood outside of Gavin’s apartment. He had knocked already; twice, no response.

“Gavin, it’s me, Connor. Let me in.” Nothing. Regardless, the android managed to enter the apartment by picking the lock, which made him wonder if Gavin knew it was this easy for anyone to enter, or if the detective cared about this fact at all. The apartment was dead silent, only a small noise came from what seemed like the living room. Taking careful steps, Connor walked towards the source. It reeked of cigarette smoke, and the air began to get thick with the substance, but as he got closer, Connor identified the rattling noise; it was just what he was afraid of.

Leaning against the couch, Gavin sat in darkness, staring off into space. He held a revolver in his grasp; spinning the cylinder, hearing it rattle, resting it against his temple and pressing the trigger. Nothing. “It’s rude to break into people’s houses, you know?” Gavin spoke from behind the furniture, not putting the effort into facing Connor.

“Gavin, it doesn’t have to end like this. Put the gun down, let’s talk.” Connor said, desperately.

“I’ve talked enough,” Gavin scoffed, spinning the cylinder once again. “Get lost.”

Once Connor got close enough, he noticed the boxes of cigarettes lying next to the man; two of them, one smoked through completely, one half empty. The purple lighter rested next to them peacefully. The android circled a coffee table to face Gavin, he looked up. His eyes were pink from afar, able to blend in with a field of freshly bloomed tulips, yet up close they uncovered something much more painful. The veins and the whites of his sclera gave off such contrast, it hurt the human eye. “Leave now, that’s an order.”

“You know I can’t do that.”

“For fuck’s sake. Just let it go. You can’t save me, you can’t accomplish _this_ mission.”

Connor stayed silent as he watched him fidget with the revolver. He refused to budge.

"I said, get the fuck out," Gavin yelled, pointing the revolver at the android. "Or I swear I will fucking shoot you."

Connor stepped back quickly, holding up his hands. His LED began to go wild, blinking between red and yellow, he was afraid. Gavin lowered the gun.

"I have to do this, just _let me do this_." An envelope sat next to him, a name written atop it. Gavin must’ve caught Connor gazing at it, because the next thing he knew, Gavin was reaching out to place it in his hands, “listen, _Connor_ , just give this to my brother, would you?” He let out a shaky breath, “the name’s on the envelope, just _please_ promise to hand it to him.”

Connor stood there, unable to think of words to say. Not wanting to risk getting shot at, he took the envelope from his grasp, “ _I promise, Gavin._ ”

After countless resolutions overlapped the android's mind, he had decided. Leaving, the android’s unsureness grew with each step closer he got to the front door. Did he choose right?

It was when he gripped the handle that he heard the cylinder rattling again, Connor could have sworn he felt shivers run up his spine. Closing the door behind him, he slowly looked down at the name written on the paper with sloppy handwriting.

The vibrations of a gunshot bounced off and through the walls surrounding Connor. And as a single tear welled up at the edge of his eyelid, he read:

ELIJAH KAMSKI.


End file.
